Touch
by irishwoodkern
Summary: Abbie accepts Crane's offer of a massage and their feelings get the best of them.


Abbie's breathing quickened as Crane's nimble fingers glided over the expanse of smooth, warm skin. She was unused to this – to being treated with such loving care and attention. A gasp of pleasure escaped her when he addressed a particularly sensitive spot.

'Something wrong, my love?'

Abbie grunted in the negative.

'Pressure points can produce painful responses as well as pleasurable ones. I would hate to think that I was hurting you.'

'Crane,' she muttered firmly. 'I'm begging you – keep going.'

She was dubious when Crane first suggested giving her a back massage, even more so when he produced a bottle of olive oil for the purpose. There was something too intimate about it; she knew it would finally force them to confront their desires. Once they took that leap together, there would be no turning back.

Some weeks later, waking up almost paralysed with stiffness forced her to swallow her doubts. A lull in their war against Moloch had induced her to turn her attention to the mountain of paperwork on her desk. Two days of report-writing left her with back spasms that made her bite back tears of pain.

Now she lay face-down on Crane's bed, her bottom half covered only by a flannel robe, her hair secured in a messy bun. She had fantasised for so long about how Crane's long, tapered fingers would feel on her body. After an hour of his careful and thorough attentions, she was beginning to think that it had been well worth the wait.

Their relationship had been slow in developing. Katrina's courageous sacrifice to save Henry's soul had caused a grief-stricken Crane to shatter like glass. The process of piecing him back together had been a low and tortuous one, taking the best part of a year. It was another full year before they finally came to admit their feelings for one another.

Inevitably, it was a crisis that led to their mutual declaration. The Horseman of Conquest went on the rampage, unleashing a plague on the inhabitants of Sleepy Hollow. Crane almost fell apart once more when Abbie first developed symptoms. The sickness lay within, her skin erupting into painful blisters on contact. The doctors were at a loss as to treatments and nobody was able to touch her without causing the most unimaginable pain.

To watch her suffer was impossible and to leave her side unbearable, but Crane knew that he could do nothing to help. Days spent trawling through the archives with Jenny led them to an alchemical formula developed by Paracelsus in the 16th century. When the physicians' backs were turned, they administered a potion that they had hurriedly brewed in the archives.

Terrified in case the concoction should make her worse, they sat waiting for any kind of response. Slowly, her breathing and her heart rate returned to normal and the pustules on her skin began to shrink and disappear. Crane's heart almost stopped with relief when she opened her eyes and smiled at him in slight confusion.

'I love you,' were the first words he spoke.

They began a tentative courtship, each of them unsure how they would fit together after spending so long skirting around the other. Abbie was nervous of pushing him too far, too quickly, whereas Crane was afraid of overwhelming her with the intensity of his feelings.

As his fingers moved over her back, gently loosening her cramped muscles, he heard Abbie sigh with decadent pleasure. His body ached to please her in other ways, to feel her tremble and swoon beneath him. He tried to be a gentleman, to ease her weariness and stress as a dutiful lover should. Touching her in this way was a delight to the senses, but as time went on, his restraint was proving difficult to maintain.

'There, I think we have finished,' he said with more control than he felt.

Abbie practically mewled with disappointment.

He wiped his hands on a towel. 'I hope you are feeling more relaxed, Miss Mills.' He concentrated furiously on his hands while his cheeks burned.

'Aren't you going to do the other side too?'

He looked up in surprise and immediately his mouth fell open. Abbie had rolled over on one side to face him, one hand tucked casually under her head.

'Miss Mills, are you suggesting…' His mind was too fogged with lust to complete the thought. She lay before him, her naked breasts exposed to his worshipful gaze. She was utterly irresistible.

'Come here.'

He offered no resistance whatsoever when she reached out and pulled him down beside her. He rolled her gently onto her back, stroking her cheek with one hand, the other stealing into her hair to remove the band that held it together. Her dark locks tumbled over his hands and he wound his fingers through them with appreciation.

Abbie was the one who bridged the distance between them, softly kissing his lips. His fingers immediately found her breasts and began caressing them, causing a soft croon to escape Abbie's lips.

'Is this…?' Crane mumbled against her mouth. 'Do I have your permission…?'

'God, yes!' she exclaimed before pressing her lips to his once more. She boldly explored his mouth with her tongue, hearing a low groan rising in his throat. A kind of languid desire grew inside her, the same feeling that she had experienced on many mornings when she awoke in his arms. She wanted nothing more than to wind herself around his gangly limbs like a sapling around an oak.

Crane pulled away just long enough to discard his shirt before returning to trail kisses down Abbie's neck. He travelled down across her collarbone like an explorer carefully traversing some uncharted land.

Meanwhile, Abbie's fingers familiarised themselves with the breadth of his chest, rejoicing in the feel of him. He was slender – unlike the muscular jocks that used to drive her wild – but he was plenty for her.

Crane moved between her breasts, intoxicated by the texture and flavour of her smooth skin. 'Oh, Abbie,' he murmured. 'At last.'

Abbie tangled her fingers in his hair. 'I hate to break this to you,' she sighed seductively. 'But you could have had me years ago.'

She chuckled as he groaned in mock-despair. He moved back to her lips while her hands moved down to quickly unbutton his breeches. There was a sudden feeling of urgency between them. Abbie felt propelled onward by some uncontrollable force; she was no longer afraid of the heady feelings that swirled inside her. She wanted him now.

A flash of naked vulnerability in Crane's eyes halted her. The last thing she wanted was for him to be unsure about this. 'You okay, honey?' she whispered.

He smiled shyly. 'I only want to make you happy, sweetheart.'

She responded by wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. 'Then take me,' she said softly in his ear.

Crane could not deny her wish. He moved slowly and carefully, anxious of harming his most precious, most beloved one. Sliding a hand between them, he stroked her gently in tandem with their movements. He was not too far gone to feel a sense of triumph when Abbie tilted her head back and moaned helplessly.

As desperately as he wanted to close his eyes and revel in the sensations that flooded over him, he could not resist watching her face. Her eyes were shut tightly, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she abandoned herself to pleasure.

It was clear that she was close; her limbs tightened around him and her mouth grew slack. His moving fingers quickened in time with his hips; he knew that he would not outlast her by long. Just when he thought he could bear it no longer, Abbie arched her back, clenching around him as she cried out in ecstasy.

Abbie was still in her throes as he unravelled, awash with pleasure in heart and body. His limbs the weight of lead, he lay in her arms, breathing heavily. Eventually, he opened his eyes and saw Abbie gazing at him with a kind of wonder.

'Hi.' A contented smile spread across her face.

'Miss Mills,' Crane grinned saucily, taking a hand in his and gently kissing her fingers.

Abbie reached up and pulled her face to his, kissing him slowly and deeply. Though still blanketed in exhaustion, Crane felt desire stirring within him once more.

Suddenly, Abbie giggled to herself.

'What amuses you, my lovely?' Crane asked with curiosity, reaching out and tenderly stroking her hair.

She gave a cheeky smile. 'I think that's what they call a "happy ending."'


End file.
